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Monday, November 8

[The fabric of folly is fallin' apart at the seams]Today I've been in a mad rush, preparing clips packets to send out to newspapers all over the country. Not having Quark and Acrobat Distiller at home makes everything exponentially more annoying, since I am stuck with the resume and clips I burned to a master disc very quickly last month in the old Sidelines office, and I'm not sure they're my best effort. I don't have a collection of all my pages, which was careless on my part. They're lost to the ages. The only consolation I can think of is that most of them weren't really that good anyway.

Amber's situation has got me wondering about how far I should really move away. As much as I would love to flee toward a blue state, I've got all these other considerations that factor in to the decision. For one, not many of the blue states have design job openings right now. For two, I'm young and my family isn't, and none of us will get any younger in this dimension. I live two and a half hours from them, but I see them maybe four times a year. If I lived further away, would I ever see them? I'd miss them a lot more than I already do. I don't want to miss Casey and Patrick growing up. And I'm in my fertile 20s (!), so if Phil and I ever decide to "settle down," wouldn't I rather be near the familial unit than thousands of miles away?

I also plan to send a packet to The Tennessean, even though they're not hiring and I doubt Fortuna's wheel would ever spin that much in my favor. And it's too bad I don't have a Master's degree under my belt, because Syracuse is hiring a newspaper design professor.

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Cheryl sent me this the other day. Feel free to snatch it and paste it all over cyberspace if that will help you vent your frustration.

Cheer up, Linners. Looks like everyone is in the same boat. We're living in a country that just doesn't read newspapers anymore. I'm sure you'll get some response. That Birmingham internship wasn't all for waste.